


pray for everything we lost

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drabble Collection, Drabble Sequence, F/M, First Dance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post Episode: s02e98: Dark Waters, Resurrection, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: A bunch of drabbles regarding Fjord and Jester during and after episode 98.
Relationships: Fjord/Jester Lavorre
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	1. the music playing on for only two

**Author's Note:**

> These were written as random drabbles for Tumblr, out of order and not intended to be read as a whole... but then I realized that they work very well in a sequence for maximum angst. However, because of their stand-alone nature originally, there might be a few continuity errors between one and the other. Little things, really, but you've been warned. 
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you wanna dance?”
> 
> He looks like she just asked him to fight a dragon.

> _And now you're beside me_   
>  _And look how far we've come_   
>  _So far we are, so close_

Her mother is alright, smiling even and surrounded by suitors (her favored terrain). Jester feels her heart settle with relief at the sight. By her side, Fjord still seems to be catching his breath but he steps forward towards the Ruby either way. She stops him with her right hand.

“What?”

“She’s busy,” Jester whispers, pulling him aside, “we can’t just _interrupt_ her when she’s with her suitors, Fjord.”

“Is that a problem?” Fjord frowns, tilting his head, “I thought you talked to these people all the time.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you talk about them a lot. Didn’t you meet them before?”

“Well… no. Not really, since I wasn’t, like, supposed to exist and all that, you know?”

She can see crystal clear as the realization settles on Fjord’s face: confusion, comprehension, a little bit of anger behind it.

“But they saw you walk in with her,” he complains, “they gotta know, right?”

She knows he’s right. Deep down, Jester hasn’t felt like a dirty little secret for a while now —not since she’s with her friends— but still the idea of just walking up to all these lords in public (after years of having the catastrophic consequences of her existence engrained in her brain) makes her uneasy.

“Maybe we can wait until she’s free?” Her voice turns a little higher as she almost pleads. 

“Y-yeah, right. Sure. We’ll wait,” Fjord catches up quickly.

Thank the Traveler. Jester’s shoulders drop with relief. They find a quiet corner where Fjord can sip a little bit of champagne and she can pretend to drink whatever is in the glass she’s holding. 

Jester passes the time as she did her childhood: watching. Her eyes follow the elegant figures of other women, their fancy pretty dresses and complicated updos, the way they move gracefully across the dancefloor next to equally handsome men. An old longing blooms in her gut at the sight of them. How many times did she dream of being one of them, out in the limelight, gorgeous as her mother, loved like her, in the hand of some handsome prince charming entranced by her? She tries to smother the sadness with a sip of her drink and makes a face at it. Yuck. Why isn’t there any warm milk here? 

The music is beautiful. The band —while not as good as the Lavish Chateau’s, obviously— is pretty good and everyone seems to be having the most magical time. She balances her tail to the music, an old habit.

 _You’re not alone anymore,_ a familiar voice whispers in her ear. _No more hiding._

Jester blinks, looking around, but finds no trace of the Traveler. Knowing that he's around does cheer her up a little. And what he said-

“Fjord!” He’s watching her when she turns to him and he startles, nearly dropping his drink. 

“What-”

“Do you wanna dance?”

He looks like she just asked him to fight a dragon.

“Uh, no- I don’t. Jess- I don’t know how to. I’d rather not.”

“Please, Fjord, I wanna dance,” she pouts.

“I don’t know how to, Jester!” he sounds almost pained by the admission.

“I could teach you!”

He shakes his head, her heart falls a little.

“If Caleb can dance, then you certainly can learn how to. You’re very graceful, Fjord.”

His face turns a shade darker but he continues to shake his head vigorously. She deflates, looking away. It’s not fair. Maybe she _could_ find someone else to dance with at the party, around all these fancy people, but she isn’t sure that anyone will want to either. This was a stupid idea anyway.

Fjord sighs heavily before groaning: “okay, fine, _one_ song.”

Before he can change his mind, Jester drags him to the dance floor. She pulls him to a corner, where they can practice without crashing onto anyone. Standing before her, Fjord fumbles with his hands until she grabs them both firmly.

“Here,” she says, carefully placing his hand around her waist, “and here,” she holds his other gently. Fjord is turning consistently darker shades of green. The music starts.

“And, one, two, three, four,” Jester guides him through the basics. Fjord looks down at the floor, brow furrowed with concentration until his foot stomps on her toes. 

“Oh, shit, oh shit, sorry, Jester. I told you I wasn’t good at this.”

“It’s fine, Fjord! It’s fine!” She reassures him, jumping on one foot to rub her sore toes. He looks mortified. “That’s totally normal, okay? I’m fine. Let’s keep going,” her foot hurts but she’ll be damned if she lets her one chance at this pass. 

Reluctantly, they start again. Fjord doesn’t even seem to be listening to the music. His eyes are locked on their feet as he keeps count, mouthing silent numbers to himself. It’s cute, how focused he is. Jester smiles at him overwhelmed with fondness for her noble sweet friend.

“You’re doing great, Fjord.”

When he looks up, his expression is pinched with an apology.

“There weren’t many opportunities to learn dancing at the orphanage,” he says, half excuse and half confession. Her heart twists.

“I used to dance in my room,” she confesses, “the Traveler taught me, but he wasn’t always around to join, so I would just pretend to be dancing with someone.”

He looks at her with sadness that she fears will turn into pity. 

“Jess-”

“Spin me!” She demands and throws herself into a spin.

“Wha-”

It’s not very graceful, but he manages to twist her and pull her back in. She giggles a little and is relieved to see him smiling. He holds her gaze as they go on. The music takes over slowly, guiding them until they are swaying with ease as a ship on the sea. Fjord spins her a couple more times, quickly catching the trick. Her heart beats so hard in her chest that she’s afraid it will break out of her ribs. Her cheeks hurt a little from all the smiling and his eyes shine with that glint of child-like joy that he only shows around her.

She doesn’t realize that they’ve come to a halt until the crowd starts clapping. Fjord still takes a second to let go of her. Jester releases her breath and makes herself snap out of it. 

“Woooh!” She yells loudly as she claps. Other people around look annoyed by her loudness, but she doesn’t care because it makes Fjord chuckle. 

Fjord hasn’t moved away from her. She wonders if she can talk him into just one more song, one more dance, just one last magical moment before the night is over. Before she can speak, though, her eyes catch a glimpse of her mother, standing by the dancefloor. She’s clapping too, gracefully, and smiling at them. _Oh, shit, did she see that?_ See what? They weren’t doing anything wrong? They were just two friends dancing, that’s all!

She waves at her. Her mother responds. 

The band starts playing again. Her heart aches. 

“Alright, she’s free. We can go, now.”

Did she imagine the flash of disappointment in Fjord’s face before they walked out of the dancefloor? Probably.

They join her mother and go on as if nothing had happened. They are not going to talk about it, the way they never do about this kind of stuff. It doesn’t matter. Jester locks the memory away, where she treasures all the other little things that they never talk about.

“Maybe we could have a dance at Traveler Con,” Fjord says, later, as they are having dinner alone in the Chateau (in what’s most definitely _not_ a date) (right?). “I mean, we got all these fancy clothes now, we should use them, right? I think it’d be fun.”

“Uh, sure! I’ll pick up some decorations,” she agrees, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

One more dance. They just need to get past these stupid negotiations and then she can have one last dance. And she doesn’t have to think about this at all after it. Just one more. She holds on to that promise as they sail the next morning.

> _Oh how could I face the faceless days_   
>  _If I should lose you now_


	2. no church in the wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight is over before her mind’s done catching up with reality, before she can begin to comprehend what a world without Fjord in it is like. Dark, cold, and stormy. That’s what it is.

> _What's a God to a non-believer_   
>  _Who don't believe in anything?_

It’s like the scream stops the world around her. The fighting, the storm, the blood pumping in her ears… all of it vanishes behind the sound of a single name being screamed with rage and fear. She doesn’t feel the spell drop, doesn’t bother with the remaining enemies, she dimension doors to the deck between heartbeats. 

The rain hits her hard and cold. _I don’t mind the rain,_ she told him a lifetime ago when all she craved was to spend a night outside by his side. She meant it. Now, though, the rain clouds her vision and it takes three horrifying seconds for her to find him laying on the ground. He’s shirtless and wet, like one of her romance heroes, but he’s bloodied and hurt and that’s all her mind can focus on. Well, that and the monstrous figure standing over him. She’s never been cold, not one day of her life, but she feels a freezing shiver run down her back at the sight.

No, no, no. He has to be okay. She catches the faintest movement from him as he reaches for what seems to be a healing potion. Good. That’s good. _You keep it and when you take it you think of it as a spell from me,_ she told him, as they rode across a dark and quiet forest. She meant it. Please, take it, Fjord. Please be alright. She’s too far from him.

Her spiritual lollipop smashes against the guy standing on top of him, trying to buy him some time. It hits, but it’s not enough. She’s too late. A sword —once familiar, once the brand of someone she loves, once the very thing to save her life— lodges itself into Fjord’s chest.

 _I promise I’ll heal you if you start to hurt,_ she told him while standing on this very deck but she’s too far away and all she can do is watch. She considers jumping to the lower decks but even then, crossing the battlefield would be an eternity. She doesn’t get that much. She doesn’t get more than a couple seconds until the blade is pressed in again, and again. 

He’s gone. She knows it, deep in her bones where she feels the Traveler’s presence and the hellish magic of her mother’s blood. It’s like a teacup cracking inside her ribcage. There’s no scream. The world is dark and soundless around her, the rain is freezing, the pain is too much. Her magic crosses the night, like a ray of sunshine in the middle of all this horror, and slams hard against the attacker looming over him. _Over his body._

Beau is a dash of tearful anger. The creature is dragging Fjord’s body away. Caleb stops it. She has no time to be thankful, no time to be relieved, no time to mourn or grief. She’s seen death in the eye before; she’s caused it; she’s stopped it; she’s faced it within an inch of her life. This is different.

The fight is over before her mind’s done catching up with reality, before she can begin to comprehend what a world without Fjord in it is like. Dark, cold, and stormy. That’s what it is.

She has no god to pray to.

We should’ve run away, like we said. We should’ve left the world behind. 

She should cry, she thinks, sob, or scream or _move._ She can’t. It’s not numbness that takes over her —no, that would be a blessing— but a pain too deep for her to function. 

_It’s alright,_ he told her once, _we look out for each other._ But she didn’t. She was too late. She failed. 

People are screaming and running around. She knows she will too, eventually. There is no time to lose, she has precious seconds before the diamonds in her bag are as useless as her promise to protect him. What if she fails at this too? What if he’s really gone? What if she never hears him say her name again, with that wink to his eye and fondness in his voice?

She’s never felt this alone. She’d face a million blue dragons to have him back. 

Someone screams her name. Reality snaps back into focus. Before she knows it, she’s running across the ship as she pulls a big shiny diamond from her backpack. Something new grows inside her, like a flower or a venomous plant. 

Fuck this. Fuck all of it. She’s Jester Lavorre. She’s faced dragons, she’s made gods, she’s stopped death and fooled ancient hags. Wildmother, Traveler, whatever deity coming to her aid- she’ll take it. She’s not losing Fjord today.

> _I stand by you, walk through the fire_   
>  _Your love, is my scripture_


	3. chasing the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s always chasing her. Dashing through a forest, falling through the sky, searching for her voice in the dark of a dungeon. He’s chasing her even when she’s standing by his side, her eyes filled with melancholy as she watches the sea light up with colorful jellyfish. He realizes that, even now, she’s a million miles away. Especially now.

> _And now the time has come_   
>  _And so, my love, I must go_

The air is warm and salty in Nicodranas, the night’s silence heightens the sound of the crashing waves. He feels at home, even as he runs across the streets after a pretty pink shape. He tries to go faster but she’s always a few feet ahead. He can’t reach her. He can’t breathe. He tries to call her name but some shadow clouds it in his mind. But he knows her. He does.

His fingers reach for her arm, catch hold of a delicate blue wrist. When she turns, though, she looks different. Younger- no, not really. But there’s a spark of naivety in her eyes that seems purer, that hasn’t known horrors yet. There’s a flash of confusion in her features. She doesn’t know him. The surprise quickly morphs into a mischievous grin. She throws a bag full of armors at him.

“Oh, good,” she says casually, “hold this for me?”

He doesn’t know how or why but he does as she says. A second after she runs away, a hoard of half-naked guards run into the alley. He drops the bag and runs after her.

He’s always chasing her. Dashing through a forest, falling through the sky, searching for her voice in the dark of a dungeon. He’s chasing her even when she’s standing by his side, her eyes filled with melancholy as she watches the sea light up with colorful jellyfish. He realizes that, even now, she’s a million miles away. Especially now.

“Don’t be sad,” he murmurs.

When she turns to him, she’s once again dressed for a party. Curly strands of hair fall off her updo, and her face still reflects that quiet heaviness.

“You look lovely this evening,” he says. He means it.

She smiles and blushes. The soft light of the chateau gives her an eerie look. He thinks of old mermaid tales.

“Fjord!” Her expression changes in a blink. The fear in her voice puts him on edge. “Fjord, come back to me! Come back, please!”

She sounds so terrified. He takes a step forward.

He falls

He sinks

The ocean is cold and dark. Something slippery is wrapped around his waist, it pulls him under. He can’t fight it. He’s so tired. The darkness takes over.

“Fjord!”

He fights to open his eyes. A blue shape floats in front of him. Warm gentle lips press against his —the tusks, don’t hurt her— and air fills his lungs again. Strength returns to him.

When his vision focuses, she’s nowhere to be found. He tries to call her name but the darkness swallows the sound.

Another voice, clear and prideful, rings through the water.

“It is rude to keep a lady waiting,” the figure berates him as it reaches a green-cloaked hand towards him. Fjord grabs a hold of it. The elegant long fingers wrap around his wrist and pull with a surprisingly firm grip.

He crashes through the water surface.

“You are safe, my child,” a gentle voice promises.

Air fills his lungs. Pain. Rain. Cold. His eyes open, startled.

“Fjord!”

The first thing he sees is her face. Her wet hair sticks to her skin. He can’t see the freckles in the darkness.

“Hey, Jessie.”

Jester lets out a chuckle that turns into a sob midway-through. The pain in her face makes his chest hurt more than it did when impaled by his old sword. He’s seen her cry before, only a few times, but never like this. He brings a hand up, recklessly, to clean the tears with his thumb. It’s useless, they are both soaked either way.

“You came back,” she smiles through the tears.

The surprise in her voice offends him. His brow furrows.

“Of course.”

Doesn’t she know? She should surely know by now that he’s always coming when she calls. He’s been chasing her from the second they met. He’s still chasing.

> _Someday, you'll know_   
>  _I was the one_   
>  _But tomorrow may rain, so_   
>  _I'll follow the sun_


	4. you can't forget what you can't get back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Traveler!” She screams loudly over the raging winds. “Traveler, please!”
> 
> Her eyes fill with tears.
> 
> “Wildmother? Someone, please.”

> _Would you rescue me? Would you get my back?_   
>  _Would you take my call when I start to crack?_

The fight is over but the storm is still roaring around them. Jester feels far away, like she’s walking through a dream —a nightmare, actually—, as she moves across the deck. Caduceus, with one hand spread towards Fjord and one towards Orly casts a quiet spell. 

“Wha- what are you doing?” She squeaks, terrified that he’ll turn Fjord’s body into musk, decompose him before she can get to him. 

“Buying us time,” he replies. His usually gentle voice is tainted by something hard and cold. “You need to bring both of them back. I don’t have the spell prepared.”

She should feel relieved, but there’s still that numbness spreading through her limbs. Caduceus turns to her, glowering, and urges her, “go, Jester!”

Nodding, she turns around and hurries the rest of the way to Fjord’s… body. She freezes at the sight. It’s not the deep messy wound on his chest that hits her the hardest: it’s his face, the way his mouth hangs open, like he’s gasping for air, and his half-open eyes, unseeing, _lifeless_ after she’s seen them filled with so much joy. He’s gone.

“Fjord,” her voice cracks, choked by the pain that stabs her through the gut.

She kneels next to him as her nervous hands search for the diamond in her haversack. The rock is big, beautiful and cold in her hands. She places it carefully over his chest. 

“Traveler!” She screams loudly over the raging winds. “Traveler, please!”

Her eyes fill with tears.

“Wildmother? Someone, please.”

Jester breaths in tries to find the magic inside her, magic that was never powered by a true God, magic that was faith in someone who was lying to her, magic that she’s too shaken to find inside her anymore. She can hear the others shift around her, waiting. She looks down at the lifeless corpse before her.

You need to do this. Fjord needs you. Fjord trusts you to look after him. You promised. 

A firm hand presses over her shoulder. She feels Caduceus’s magic spreading through her, calming and guiding her. Jester carefully brushes Fjord’s bangs away from his face.

“Please come back to me, Fjord. Please,” she whispers. 

A flash of green in front of her startles her friends. Jester raises her eyes to find The Traveler, Artagan, kneeling before her on the other side of Fjord. He looks unusually winded, like he ran all the way here, with his red hair messy and damp. His green eyes are intense and they meet hers, heavy with an unspoken apology, with the weight of responsibility, with familiar reassurance.

“I am here,” he says, firmly, and places his hands around hers.

That’s all she needs. He’s here; she’s not alone; she’s never been. That’s where her magic has been all along: in love. Being loved and loving her oldest friend, her new friends, her mother, the world, the light and happiness in it. It’s love. She looks down at Fjord. She has love to spare for him.

The diamond explodes into a million pieces between her fingers, turned into shiny dust that expands across the ship deck, like a constellation of stars frozen in time between raindrops. In the shimmering reflection of the gem dust, Jester recognizes a familiar face, kind and motherly. Life and death hang in the air for a magical instant, before the particles regroup under her hands and fill the gap in Fjord’s chest with stardust.

The Traveler looks exhausted as he disappears.

Fjord gasps for air.

His eyes shine bright with life once more as he sits up, expecting a fight.

“Wha- where- who-”

As he focuses on her, confused and rattled and wonderfully alive, whatever had been holding Jester together cracks. Overwhelmed with relief, she chuckles, but the joy turns into a sob in her throat. All the fear and sadness of the past minute smash against her like a wave. She hugs Fjord tightly against her, weeping against his shoulder.

“ _Ow-”_ He complains. “Jester, what- What happened? Are you alright?” He sounds so concerned for her.

She nods, sobbing. “You came back.”

“Came back? From whe- oh.” 

Fjord stiffens against her. She assumes it’s realization settling in, the memory of the battle, the weight of its consequences. She feels one of his arms wrap around her waist. His hold is tight, giving and looking for comfort at the same time.

She could stay here forever, feeling his body recover warmth, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as her hands press healing spells into his back.

“Jester,” someone said. “Jester, Orly.”

It takes all of her strength to let go of him, to push off from him —nightdress soaked in water and blood— and stand up. Her friends’ faces are tearful, relieved, shaken still. Fjord, too, looks like he has been crying and isn’t trying to hide it. Despite it, he sends her a shaky smile. Neither finds the words they seem to be looking for.

She runs off towards Orly’s body, pulling out the other diamond. 

“One more, Traveler. We can do one more. Together.”

As she passes by, Caduceus pats her in the back. The tension in his shoulders hasn’t quite dissipated, she can see anger simmering under the surface but, despite it, his eyes are kind. 

“You did good,” he murmurs, “but it isn’t over.”

He’s not talking about their other dear friend that still must be brought back from the dead. No, when he speaks he’s looking at the dark stormy sea. Jester feels the storm inside her. She nods. If they are really going to save Fjord, they’ve got some sea snake hunting to do.

> _I'll be there anytime you call_   
>  _Don't you ever call another_   
>  _No need to call another_


	5. no dream comes true until you're left hanging by a thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You died, Fjord,” she finally says, voice small and wavery. 
> 
> He knew that already, but the way she says it makes it feel real for the first time. Fjord drops next to her on the bed with a heavy sigh.
> 
> “Yeah, I guess I did,” he mutters slowly, letting it sink in. “I- I’m alright now, though.”
> 
> “I’m sorry.”

> _Would you love me when I'm gone?_   
>  _Would you love me when I'm dead?_   
>  _Would you love me with a bounty on my head?_

It’s not the first time he dies at sea, but it feels different. Last time, death felt only like one more waste, a stark reminder of how dull and irrelevant his life had been. He knew the second darkness swallowed him that his passing would matter little to anyone but himself. It’s not like that now. He has so much he wants to accomplish, so much to live for, so many people that genuinely love him, that it makes death taste far more unfair. He loves his life now, doesn’t want to be ripped away from it.

He doesn’t wake up alone and confused this time, either. A chorus of friendly faces welcomes him back to the land of the living with concerned eyes and relieved smiles. Fjord finds himself in the middle of this little family that he’s made for himself and realizes that there’s no dark deal this time, just people who love him and want him around asking nothing in exchange. 

It not being his first time, Fjord tries to brush the incident off lightly. With the help of Caduceus, he gets on his feet and after reassuring everyone else he goes to Orly who is just going through the same process thanks to Jester’s magic. The tortoise is equally pragmatic but looks worse for wear in a way that makes Fjord feel a pang of guilt. 

It’s his fault that anyone got hurt. They were here for him.

He sends Orly to bed and tasks Marius and Beau with rallying the crew, making sure everyone is alright and the ship able to go on with their mission.

“Watches would probably be a good idea, too,” he sighs, heavily. “I can take the first one.”

“Absolutely not,” Caleb cuts in. 

“You need to rest,” Caduceus nods. “I can take a watch.”

“I’ll join you,” Yasha murmurs.

There’s more darkness than usual in everyone’s voices, righteous anger on his behalf that makes his chest twist. Begrudgingly, he accepts their demands that he rest and half an hour after being murdered he finds himself back in the captain’s quarters.

Fjord takes his time drying the floor with the monstrous figure had dripped, changes the bloodied sheets and cleans himself, but eventually, he runs out of distractions. Laying on the bed, he stares at the ceiling waiting for a sleep that doesn’t come. He fears the nightmares that might come the second his eyes close and the dangers that can haunt him in the real world while he lays there vulnerable.

Because he’s not sleeping, the corner of his eye catches the door moving as a dark figure peeks in. He jumps to his feet and summons his sword to his hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” A familiar voice squeaks.

“Jester?”

“I’m sorry, I just- I thought you would be sleeping.”

“You were going to spy on me in my sleep?”

“I just wanted to check-in on you.”

“Oh.” Fjord frowns and moves to turn a light on.

As the darkness recedes, he sees Jester standing on the door frame, eyes still puffy and red from crying earlier. She balances her weight there, anxious and embarrassed and Fjord wants to kick himself for it. She was just worried.

“Do you wanna come in?” He offers.

“Uh, s-sure,” Jester hesitates a little before walking in and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, really, I just wanted to-”

“It’s alright, Jester.”

“It’s really not, though,” she grumbles as she crosses the room and takes a seat at the edge of his bed. 

Fjord watches her move through his space with that casual ease and wonders if this is somehow inappropriate of them. His mind flies back to another time, sees himself walking through that very same door to find a very naked Avantika waiting for him. The meeting back then had been charged with danger and lies, quickly turning into a desperate attempt to regain control by him. There is none of that tension now, just Jester sitting there and pinning him with those sad violet eyes.

“You _died,_ Fjord,” she finally says, voice small and wavery. 

He knew that already, but the way she says it makes it feel real for the first time. Fjord drops next to her on the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he mutters slowly, letting it sink in. “I- I’m alright now, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jester’s head is low, her eyes tearful as she looks at her hands. It’s like being stabbed in the chest again.

“Sorry?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you faster, Fjord,” the words come out all at once, accompanied by tears. “I tried to!” Jester shakes her head. “But we were stuck down there and I couldn’t get around the guys attacking us and then I came up and you were just lying there and I couldn’t _get_ to you. And I promised I would heal you if you were hurt but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Fjord cuts her off, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pulls her into a side-hug. He’s never been good with this physical touch thing, but the idea of letting her just cry like that without comforting her is unbearable. “Jester, hey, look at me,” he takes her chin in his hand, mirroring the way her God had comforted her before. “I’m alright, okay? None of this was your fault. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even be here without you.”

She nods, but he isn’t sure that she believes him.

“You saved my life, Jester.”

Slowly, she calms down. He doesn’t let go of her shoulders. 

“What are we gonna do now, Fjord?”

“I… don’t know,” he admits. “I’m at a loss here, I must admit. I guess we have to be more careful.”

“We need to find a way to get that thing out of you, Fjord, before they come back for it.”

“Yeah but I don’t know how to,” he lets out a dry laugh, overwhelmed. “I mean, I don’t even know if it’s possible, you know? Besides, we have to see these peace talks through first, it’s important for Beau, Caleb and Veth. And then you have you thing coming in. I don’t want to derail everyone’s lives again with my problems.”

Jester looks at him like he just said the most stupid thing in the seven seas.

“ _Fjord!_ Of course this is just as important, okay? Really, we all want you to be safe and if these dumb things come back we are going to be ready, alright? I- I can message Vandran again, ask him if he knows anything about this. Maybe he can tell us how he did to get away before! Or- or I can message Yussa, or Allura, or someone! We are going to find out how to get you out of these, okay?” She says, earnestly as she grabs his free hand in hers. Her eyes are still red-rimmed but he recognizes that unshakable resolve of hers in them. “I told you, Fjord, I will do _anything_ to get you away from Uk’otoa, okay?”

His throat closes with tears. He tilts his head down to conceal the dampness gathering in his eyes. Fjord is overwhelmed by thankfulness for this woman’s sweetness, this girl who just gifted him life back and now is casually talking about fighting an ancient evil demigod for his sake. Some days —most days— he can’t believe she’s real at all. What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

“Okay,” he finally says, once he finds his voice again. 

“Okay,” she agrees, softly, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting them go. 

Jester stands up and he immediately mourns the loss of her body by his side. 

“You should really get some sleep, Fjord,” she says, walking for the door. 

“Yeah, about that, uh,” he speaks quickly, nervously, “would you- would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay?”

Just making the request is harder than fighting the scariest monster. It makes him feel vulnerable and small and ridiculous, but this is _Jester_ and he trusts her.

“You want me to stay the night with you, Fjord?” Her eyebrows wiggle, suggestively. 

_Oh, gods._

“Just- just for a while, you don’t have to- I mean- not to do anything- I just. I… I can’t sleep.”

Whatever joke she’d been preparing, frizzles and dies in the tip of her tongue. He can see her face twist with something that once before he might have mistaken for pity but now knows to be kindness and compassion. 

“Of course, Fjord,” she smiles sweetly at him. “I’m still feeling a little nervous from the battle too, you know, so I was thinking about drawing for a little while for the Traveler. Maybe- you have a desk here, I could draw here while you sleep a little.”

“Just until I fall asleep,” he promises. He has no intention of keeping her up all night. After what she did for him and Orly, she must be exhausted.

Jester nods and quietly makes her way to the desk. Fjord wonders if he should say something more, but anything he could add right now seems useless. The conversation has left him exhausted. He lays back down on the bed and watches as she opens her notebook and carefully selects her pencils. She’s humming to herself and the sound soothes whatever was still rattled inside him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, as his eyes begin to close. 

Behind half-closed lids, he can see how she turns to him and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here too, Fjord,” she says. He’s not sure if he imagined the way her voice cracked a little or how she quickly rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. Sleep takes him swiftly. 

His dreams are quiet, which is why he hears the voices. Fjord’s first instinct is to jump and fight, but one of them is Jester and she sounds at ease. The other voice is familiar, too, though less welcomed. The Traveler. Fjord doesn’t move, he carefully keeps his breathing steady and listens. 

_This is wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this, but he’s always been too curious for his own good._

_And he does not trust this man as far as he can throw him._

“Thank you for coming when you did,” Jester is saying, with that gentle fondness that for a while Fjord thought was reserved for him.

“Of course,” the fey replies, voice melodic and dangerous at the same time, “he might be an idiot, but he is important to you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then, that is enough for me.”

_Fjord feels another pang of guilt. He really shouldn’t be spying._

“Do you… do you think you can help us… with Uk’otoa?”

The fey hums. Fjord can picture him tilting his head, letting that stupid red mane spread across his shoulders.

“I do not know. I am afraid this creature is far more ancient than even me. However, I will be with you every step of the way. It should be _fun.”_

_Fun?!_

“Yeah, totally! It’s gonna be great when we finally kill it,” Jester agrees, cheerfully. 

Fjord thinks of the creature lurking in the darkness of his dreams. The idea of Jester facing that horror makes him nauseous. 

“But we have to figure out _how_ to kill it,” she is still going on about it. 

“Well, there is always a way to achieve death. I believe I am owed some favors in other planes, one of them might be able to aid us in this new… mission of yours.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know people in many planes? Are you very famous there?”

“Certainly,” The Traveler replies proudly. 

_Fjord knows a liar when he hears one._

“You’ll see. As soon as the Zenith has passed, I will have far more time to be with you. Ah, delicious freedom! And then, you and I can go and explore all these fun worlds together.”

_What._

“Yes, it’s going to be so great!”

_Jester’s leaving?_

“Alright, then. Now, you better rest. You did very well tonight, my priestess. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“I will watch over your half-orcs dreams for now.”

After a few moments, Fjord hears Jester move across the room and leave. He waits still for a couple minutes before finally daring to open his eyes. The room is empty. He grapples with what he just eavesdropped in. It’s like being stabbed through the chest all over again.

_Fuck._

> _I've been waiting for so long_  
>  Would you believe me when I said  
> I've been a fool without your heart  
> I must've been misled


End file.
